


Batman (Supposedly) Works Alone

by Listentothelittlebird



Series: Code Bat [1]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Teen Titans (Comics)
Genre: Batfamily (DCU), Bruce Wayne Has Feelings, Bruce Wayne is Batman, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Bruce Wayne meets Jason Todd, Bruce and his kids are close and have good relationships as a family, Code Bat, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, Gen, Jason Todd has a potty mouth, and texts Dick because he doesn’t know who else to turn to besides Alfred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:13:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26913448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Listentothelittlebird/pseuds/Listentothelittlebird
Summary: Batman works alone - that is what the superhero community genuinely believes.In fact, he was so overprotective of Robin that only the thugs and Rogues of Gotham are even suspicious of his existence.When Dick Grayson sheds Robin and becomes Nightwing, Bruce has one last request for his old partner. One final protocol: Code Bat.Rated T for two swear words, because Jason.
Relationships: Bruce Wayne & Dick Grayson, Dick Grayson & Jason Todd
Series: Code Bat [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1964452
Comments: 42
Kudos: 979





	Batman (Supposedly) Works Alone

Batman works alone. He always had, and he always will.

That was what spurred Bruce to hand Dick - wearing a newly-designed Nightwing costume - a meticulously arranged folder on recruitment into the Justice League, from being a solo hero to becoming a registered, supported member. 

Nightwing, a name taken from the Kryptonian legend that had been penned down by Superman in a children’s book. Even when his friend had no idea who Dick Grayson was, he had still managed to become the boy’s favourite superhero. Not that Bruce was jealous, he was just… stating the facts.

Nightwing raised his eyebrows at his mentor. “You know I’m going to say no, right?” he asked, studying Bruce’s face. Bruce blinked, stance relaxing minutely. “I… didn’t,” he admitted, “I just wanted you to be aware of what the League will do, once you start establishing yourself. What I will do, once you catch the League’s attention,” Bruce explained. 

“You’re no longer Robin. You can’t hide behind a myth, anymore. Once you step out of Gotham, you’re your own hero. No ties to Batman. I just have one request, and you can be on your way.”

“What’s that?”

“Code Bat,” Bruce’s expression blanked, “If this code is activated, that means I need assistance, and nobody else is able to answer the call. It means that I’m counting on you to come through for me when everyone else I work with can’t. It also means that you’ll have to drop whatever you’re doing right at that moment.” Bruce paused to allow that to sink in.

He understood if Nightwing - Dick - rejected this request. The whole purpose of Nightwing was to step out of Batman’s influence, to find himself outside of who he became under Batman’s watchful gaze. To have this code set in place, it almost felt like a leash, one last thing to tether himself to Gotham.

To his surprise, Nightwing grinned. “I’ll have your back,” he promised, and suddenly Bruce could see the remnants of an eight-year-old boy superimposed onto the young man before him. 

Bruce returned his smile with one of his own - small, but genuine, and there.

~

The first time Code Bat was used was, thankfully, not a crisis. Well, not a life-threatening crisis, anyway.

Nightwing was lounging in the Titans Tower living room when the message came through on his phone. “Code Bat” were the first words, putting Nightwing on immediate alert. He sat up as he read further, brow furrowing. His friends were already taking note of his reaction.

“What’s wrong?” Koriand’r asked. The others were watching intently for an answer. 

Nightwing - just Dick, no last name given - smiled reassuringly once he had looked up from his phone. “Don’t worry, nobody’s dying,” he joked, although he was still reeling from the… weirdness of the situation. All Bruce had mentioned was that he was emotionally compromised, and would like to at least talk to him about “important decisions” over the phone, if not in person.

“Gar, do you think you could hold down the fort here for a few days? I think I’m going to take a home leave,” Nightwing stretched, ignoring his teammates’ shared confusion.

“Not to offend you or anything,” Wally blurted, “But, like, we didn’t know you still had- well, was still close to your family. I mean, all of us pretty much came here to purposefully escape our families, you know? Except for you, Kori, sorry,” he grinned sheepishly, but the resident alien waved away his concern.

Dick had taken to the whole distancing himself from Gotham very seriously. His accent was already far-removed enough, a mixture of vaguely New Jersey and hints of European influence. When he talked about family, he talked about his biological family - the memories he could still remember. He doubled his acrobatics and modified batarangs to suit his needs, and named them wing-dings, to add his own flair. 

His response to Wally’s question was easy enough.

“I don’t want my family being traced back to Nightwing,” he explained, “I won’t drag them into my problems.”

Around him, his friends’ faces softened in understanding. Garth nodded to Dick’s request, “Of course I can take charge if you want to visit your family. Send them our blessings.”

~

Dick swerved his bike just shy of the front porch. He dismounted, shaking off his helmet-hair and breathing in the sight of his home. No matter how far he was from Gotham, the Manor was still in his heart.

“Master Dick,” Alfred greeted him with a kind smile and crinkled eyes, “What a pleasant surprise.”

Dick grinned. He had replied to the message with a vague “give me one day”, and that one day had been spent packing and travelling here. He gave Alfred a tight hug and glided inside, leaving his duffel bag resting on the first step of the grand staircase. 

“Is B home?” he wondered, wandering absently towards the living room. The room that they used as a living room, anyway. The man himself was brooding on the couch, nursing a mug of coffee. 

Dick gasped dramatically, making known his presence, just in case Bruce was so deep in his thoughts that he had missed the noise in the corridor. Sure enough, Bruce twitched slightly, and turned to regard him with barely disguised shock and joy. 

“Bruce!” Dick cried in his best scandalised voice, “Coffee in the afternoon? I thought we had an agreement!” 

Bruce frowned playfully, “Don’t worry. This is decaf,” he assured mildly, “I’ve been keeping my caffeine intake to the morning, as per our agreement.”

Dick pouted, flopping bonelessly onto the couch beside him. “That’s not fair. The agreement never mentioned decaf,” He complained, plucking the mug out of his surrogate father’s hands and placing it on the table in front of them. He shifted, elbowing Bruce not-so-subtly while doing so, until his head was on Bruce’s lap, staring up innocently at his quirked eyebrow. His mouth was twitching, threatening to lift upwards into a smile and break his stoic expression.

“So,” Dick started conversationally, “You called a Code Bat?”

Bruce’s expression turned to one of mild conflict, even as he hummed and started to trail his fingers through Dick’s unruly hair. “I did,” he agreed.

Bruce paused, and Dick waited patiently for him to continue.

“Dick Grayson is currently a ward of Bruce Wayne.” When in doubt, Bruce always fell back on facts. “You’re almost eighteen. Once you’re eighteen, you… won’t be my ward, and I won’t be your guardian.”

Bruce’s other arm had come to rest around Dick’s chest, and it now wrapped around his torso in a semi-hug. Dick himself curled closer to Bruce, soaking in the comfort of his embrace. He could feel Bruce taking in a deep breath, holding it for a moment, and letting it out slowly, his heartbeat pounding from where his head rested on his chest.

“Would you like to be adopted?”

Dick froze. Bruce panicked internally, scrambling for something more to say, anything, but before he could spill out something to downplay the offer he was suddenly engulfed by an armful of limbs thrown haphazardly over his shoulders.

Dick did not respond immediately, simply clinging to Bruce tightly. It was answer enough for the older man, who relaxed and wrapped his own arms around his child, in everything but blood.

“That’s a yes, then?” Bruce chuckled, rumbling voice more comforting to Dick than he wanted to admit, just like he was ignoring the tears falling from his eyes, soaking into Bruce’s shirt. Dick bobbed his head, and it was a few more quiet minutes before his grip finally loosened.

Dick tumbled off his father - he was going to be adopted, he was going to officially have a dad - and wiped furiously at his eyes. Even when emotional, he could tell Bruce had more to say.

“That’s one reason for a Code Bat,” Dick croaked, narrowing his eyes at Bruce, “But there must be another reason. Something triggered this, besides my approaching birthday.”

Dick blinked as Bruce - the Batman - fidgeted nervously. Now this looked more like the emotionally compromised Bruce he was expecting. Bruce cleared his throat, and asked very carefully, “What do you think of getting a sibling?”

Dick blinked. Blinked again. Recalled that the message was sent at an unearthly hour in the morning - post-patrol time. No less than on the night that Bruce’s parents were murdered. “What did you do?” Dick questioned, but his tone was more mirthful excitement than anything else.

Bruce huffed indignantly. “I didn’t do anything,” he claimed, “The kid was the one who stole three tyres off the batmobile. And hit me with his tyre iron when he came back for the fourth.”

Dick tried to suppress his reaction, but it was all too ridiculous, and perhaps he was still emotionally unbalanced from his impromptu adoption. He burst into uncontrolled laughter, and laughed harder when Bruce shot him a scandalised expression, as if he was supposed to side with him, not the kid. 

“So- so the big broody Batman got his car tyres stolen by a street kid, and now he can’t stop thinking about him?” Dick wheezed. Bruce deflated with a resigned sigh, and an equally defeated nod. How could even his nod be defeated?

“I bought him a burger, and offered him foster-care. He hated the very idea of it, but I told him that I knew a trusted person who could foster him-“

“And that person is you,” Dick finished. He gave one last chuckle before bumping him in the shoulder with a wide grin. “Well, I’ve never had siblings, but I’m sure I’ll figure it out. Can I meet him?”

“Tomorrow,” Bruce promised, “If he agrees to my offer, he’ll show up at Crime Alley tomorrow, at noon. I’ll bring him back to the Manor, and you can introduce yourself.”

~

After much debate, otherwise known as strong objections from both Alfred and Dick, it was agreed that Bruce would show up as Bruce Wayne, not Batman. Bruce Wayne was always gossiped about as Batman’s supplier, anyways.

It was also decided that Bruce’s intimidating figure alone might be less likely to convince the boy to leave the Alley. 

Dick Grayson found himself in a ratty hoodie bouncing on his heels, humming quietly, in the middle of Crime Alley. Not the weirdest sight you might see in Gotham, but not a trustable sight, either.

Dick watched from his peripheral as a small figure shifted in the shadows, before huffing out a frustrated breath and marching right up to him. Blue eyes met blue, a scrawny, malnourished young boy in dirty street clothes glaring defiantly upwards, refusing to break eye contact. 

“Oi,” he growled, “Are ya the guy Batman was talkin’ bout?”

Jason shifted, and his nerves were obvious. Otherwise, the boy was standing firm. He was stubborn, and all the more prepared to deal with a new Guardian like Bruce. Dick grinned.

“Well, I’m not the person that’ll take you in, but I am someone that he’s already taken in,” Dick chirped merrily, squatting down so that he was at eye level with Jason. Jason wrinkled his nose, pursed lips giving off the impression that he was biting back a snarky retort.

“Who are ya?” he settled on instead.

“Richard,” Dick stated, then whispered conspirationally, “My friends call me Dick.”

Jason snorted and smirked, his eyes alight with mirth. The expression fell as his gaze focused on Dick’s face, jaw slackening in growing realisation.

“Holy shit,” Jason whispered, “I’m gonna live with Bruce fucking Wayne.”

“Language,” Dick scolded, shaking his head, “We’ll have to teach you to stop swearing. A kid like you shouldn’t be using those words.”

Jason frowned at him, and he would soon deny that it looked like a pout. His eyes sparkled with mischief. “Alright, Dickhead,” he grinned toothily, and Dick suddenly realised what was happening. He was getting a brother.

A brother that liked to spit his name like a swear, who grew up on the streets and learnt how to jack a car before learning the multiplication table. 

As he left Gotham and was welcomed heartily back into Titans tower, Dick found he did not regret the new addition to his family.

“How is your family? Are they well?” Kori questioned, tilting her head in concern. Dick smiled broadly. “They’re fine,” he assured, “All of them.” 

He wondered how long it would take for Jason to find the Batcave.

**Author's Note:**

> I’m still kinda new to posting on Ao3 and I’m very much surprised by how quickly people find my things, and how wholesome they are about it? I don’t know, I just didn’t think posting would be this... easy? Nice? Not-stressful? 
> 
> Anyways, I‘m currently trying to make this a series of works, and oh, do I have ideas :D


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